Adventures in Unplanned Parenthood

The Seagull

DtEC fans, please meet my son the seagull:

Mac and I have had no idea why the switched flipped and our son transformed into Suboptimal Prime. He started the Terrible Two’s about 6 weeks ago and absolutely anything within reach of his adorable little fists is now “MINE!” There is no thought process to determine why it’s his or why he wants it; it’s just his. His favorite toy this week is an empty, rinsed 1/2 gallon milk jug. He fished it (see, Seagull! I told you so) out of recycling and now Milk Jug is a beloved companion. Milk Jug goes all over our house. It doesn’t come with us to Grandma’s because Son of Milk Jug resides with her.

May the good Lord protect and comfort you if you try to take away Milk Jug. Eddie immediately throws his head back, drops to the floor in protest and then screams “MIIIINE! MIIIIINE!” until Milk Jug or another distraction comes along.

The baffling part is where he got the word. It’s not like Mac and I roam around the house every day announcing possession of worldly goods. “My meatloaf! My panty liners! Our new water softener that cost $250 to install so don’t kick it!” Hell, I’m listening to Mac deal with our son right now. Outside our bedroom door he’s arguing that while he concedes that a bottle with a nipple on top could be, de facto, Eddie’s bottle, Eddie still can’t scream “MINE!” insofar as we won’t let him drink the rotten milk inside said bottle. We’re mean like that.

Our biggest struggle is the cat. Of course you knew this. It’s always the cat.

Oscar will tolerate a few seconds of Eddie’s hugs and petting, even kisses on the nose. But then it’s too much, and Oscar takes a swipe at him. Ordinarily I’d concede that Oscar is his own man (own cat? Own feline?) and, as such, has complete bodily autonomy. But.